Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Astrophel and StellaXXI. Our words, my friend! (right healthful caustics!) blame
Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)O
My young mind marred, whom love doth windlass so;
That mine own writings (like bad servants) show
My wits quick in vain thoughts; in virtue, lame.
“That P
Such coltish years; that to my birth I owe
Nobler desires: lest else that friendly foe
Great Expectation, wear a train of shame.”
“For since mad March great promise made of me;
If now the May of my years much decline,
What can be hoped my harvest time will be?”
Sure you say well! Your wisdom’s golden mine,
Dig deep with learning’s spade! Now tell me this,
Hath this world ought so fair as S